


In Sickness And Health

by Quantum_Algae



Series: Writing Party!! [2]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:42:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26457379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Algae/pseuds/Quantum_Algae
Summary: John and Paul were hanging out and writing songs, ignoring headaches and slow dancing, until John spews all over the floor. So Paul, being Paul, immediately doted on John.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Series: Writing Party!! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923289
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35
Collections: The Phantastic Phantasie Writing Party





	In Sickness And Health

**Author's Note:**

> No edit baybeeee 😎

The night was wet and cool, but the air was buzzing with energy. Dozens upon dozens of teenagers and young adults rushed to pubs and nightclubs scattered among the London streets, looking for warmth or a friend to be with.

But not for John and Paul. The two men huddled in Paul's newly bought home in a hangout-turned-writing session. John sank into his chair, disappointed in himself for the lack of work he did. Paul leaned back far back on the small sofa as he downed the last of his now cooled tea. Cigarette butts filled the ashtray on the pretty coffee table in front of them, next to papers upon papers of written lyrics.

"Ugh, this song is giving me headaches," John said after a long stretch of silence. He felt his body slightly shiver despite the somewhat warm temperature of the room. Maybe the headache wasn't just from the song. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Paul send one of those glances he knew so well to mean "me too."

Paul stood up and stretched, looking around for something. "It's the lack of ideas, y'know. Maybe we should try and find some inspirations." With that he walked off to a relatively big cupboard in the corner of the room, absolutely filled to the brim with records.

"What're ye saying?"

Without a word, Paul held up a record with blue sleeves and strolled over to his vinyl player. "Came out last month, haven't had the chance to listen." He carefully placed the disc on the player and dropped the needle. As he adjusted the knobs on the side and pressed play, John walked up to stand beside him.

A hybrid of picked and strummed guitar of a beautiful sounding melody played.

" _ Two wheels a turnin' _

_ One girl a yearnin' _ "

"Roy Orbison?" John asked, a smile creeping on his face. "I must've missed the news of his new release," he said as he reached for the sleeve.

"It's good though, innit?" Paul nudged John, a glint in his eyes that's now full of energy and ideas.

John slowly nodded as he tried to absorb the song and get information from the sleeve. Paul seemed to follow suit as he made no sounds after the question.

_ "Pretty girls behind me _

_ But pretty girls are everywhere" _

"Oh that's nice. We can try doing a bit of that- that backing thing," John said as the background vocals played, seemingly following the bass.

"And the drums as well," Paul joined in as the song was about to end.

"Think Ringo could do that?"

"Shut up, John. Course he can."

" _ You fool you.. _ "

"Huh. Cute song," John shortly commented. He glanced at Paul and saw his serious expression, leaning towards the player as if that would give him a better understanding of it. "Ah," John smirked jokingly, "Of course. How could I forget. Paulie loves soft pretty ballads-"

"Shshshhh"

So this is how it'll be. Him standing in front of Paul, barely doing anything and unable to talk as Paul tries to decipher a song as pretty as himself. He just had to torture John with those slightly opened plump lips and soft doe eyes, now wide from what seems to be an idea forming in his head. How he could get lost in those eyes. Those beautiful, shining hazel eyes. Once again, John's gaze slid to Paul's lips. God, it would be easier to just go over and kiss him right now. Maybe it'll get rid of the headache..

Suddenly the song ended and Paul seemingly snapped out of his trance. As the next song started, John thought,  _ you know what? Fuck it. _

"Ah, a slow romantic song. And we're aaaall aloone," John wiggled his eyebrow as he leaned across the record player.

Paul visibly blushed and tried to look at anything but John's eyes, although the gaze stopped somewhere around his lips. "What're you-"

John slipped his hands around Paul's hips and caught his right hand with his left. "Just follow me."

" _ They say we're searching for  _

_ Love we'll never find _

_ They say we're foolish kids, _

_ We're two of a kind." _

John pulled Paul a little closer as they moved around the room. The dance wasn't graceful, but it was decent enough. John's legs moved carefully around Paul's, scared to step on them or to stumble on himself. But Paul himself, despite following John, has a confused frown on his face.

"J-John, what're you doing?"

John felt himself slightly wince and bit his lip. The dance slowed down as John started to loosen his grip against Paul. "I- It's a great song to dance to. It'd be a shame if it was passed by like nothing."

Paul looked down at the floor, still loosely following John but then held John's hand firmer and pulled him close. His brow knitted together and his face looked determined. "Well if that's so, then I agree."

John's heart skipped a beat or two. Suddenly, he forgot all memories of him and his mum dancing together. Or him with any of his past flings. He felt his legs slightly give but he snapped out of it and tried giving his most charming smile.

"Well then, Princess, follow me."

"No matter what they say 

when it's all said and done

When we are old enough 

we two will be one."

John led Paul around the room, spinning him, getting spun, even getting dipped as Paul seemingly grew more and more comfortable. John even tried to lift Paul up. Slowly, a cheeky and happy grin was plastered on Paul's face as well as John's, who just ended up messing about as he slipped in some dance moves here and there.

"And when they pass me by 

with your hand in mine

Then they just smile and say

They're two of a kind"

As the song stopped, so did the magical moment John was in. Closer than he thought they were, he couldn't help but gaze into those beautiful hazel eyes and those pretty lips. He could smell Paul's fresh apple shampoo, the scent drawing him closer and closer. Paul's soft lips were so close- basically touching his own when John felt something churn in his stomach. Oh dear.

He pushed Paul as far as he could when he vomited. Paul seemingly tried to hold back a scream as John swayed where he stood, drenched in cold sweat. John opened his mouth to apologise but Paul quickly pushed him outside, into a bathroom.

"J-Jus' clean yerself up. I'll get some of m' clothes." Paul stuttered and slammed the door shut. John swore he could hear a sort of train whistle sound from just behind the door.

Deciding that he basically could do nothing else and still feeling wobbly on the knees, John began to remove his ruined clothing and dropped them near the toilet. He staggered towards the sink and splashed some water on his face.  _ God look at those eye bags,  _ John thought as he scanned his face in the mirror. A gaunt and pale face stare back at him as he felt his arms shake under his weight. Maybe he shouldn't have thought lightly of the headaches. The already blurry sight turned even more so and the floor seemed to shake under him. Just as he was about to collapse, two arms somewhat held him just above the ground.

"I've got you.. some of my shirt and sweaters," a strained voice said. John felt his body being hoisted back and lightly dropped into the tub. A somewhat tight shirt went over his head and a warm sweater got forced on. "Come on then, let's get you in a bed."

And so Paul carried a staggering John into a warm looking guest room. It seemed that as John was washing up, Paul got the room ready.

"'M sorry about the mess back there," John mumbled as he slowly laid his head on the pillow that Paul seemed to have fluffed.

"'S fine. I took care of it. You should've told me you were sick! I wouldn't have forced you to stay and write some songs,"

A long silence followed as, faintly, Roy Orbison's vocal could be heard from the apparently still playing record. From Paul's sitting position on the bed, John heard a sigh.

"Well, I guess I can get some food for you, if you want. Lost a lot of it back there." Paul said as he stood up and made his way to the door.

"Nooooo, stay," John exclaimed, surprising himself and by the looks of it, Paul as well. "I-I mean, I don' think food would do me any good-" Paul gave another questioning stare as he went and sat on the bed again. "Jus' stay. I-I don't think I'd be up for sleeping alone right now- No, wait. I mean, what if I needed you for something?"

Paul gave a small chuckle at John's chains of excuses. "Alright, alright. I'll stay for a bit."

John felt himself let out a sigh of relief and laid his head on the pillow "Ta."

"Y'know, I remember what my mum used to do to make me or Mike feel better," Paul said, staring off, a slight smile on his face. "We could hardly sleep, y'know, an' she would come into our room and hug us until we're asleep. Her skin felt cool so, y'know, it feels rather soothing. We'd sleep very soon after."

John slightly turned towards Paul but tried to keep his eyes on the sheet. "W-well.. Do you want to try it?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, John could see Paul's eyes growing wide, possibly realising that he might be suggesting it. "Well- well that was when me and Mike were tiny. An- An' she's me mum! I can't- you can't-" Paul suddenly glowed red and covered his face with his hand.

John tried to catch a glimpse of Paul's covered face. It would be nice to get a hug from him. His soft slender arms around him, their bodies touching. He felt warm just thinking about it. He has to take the chance.

"Why not?"

Paul slowly looked up, disbelief clear in his face. "Well, I mean, it'd be a bit que-"

"No one's watching. I-" John hesitated, trying to carefully choose his words, "I'd love to get better as quickly as I could. I-if you don't mind.. that is.."

Paul swallowed with his head tilted up towards John but his gaze firm to the bed.

"I- No. You need some rest. You need to sleep. I'm.. I'm going t' get something to eat."

With a furrowed brow, Paul walked out of the room, closing the door slowly behind him.

John sank into the bed, mildly disappointed. _Why would Paul just leave like that?_ _Has he really not been caring for me in that way?_ Thousands of questions shot through his head while he adjusted himself to face away from the door. _Don't need to know when Paul's here anyway,_ he scoffed. Slowly, he felt his eyelids getting heavier and heavier. As he drifted off to sleep, he heard the door crack open quietly. At first, John wanted to see who came in, but as two hands wrapped around his waist, he felt rather glad that he stayed put. Smells of fresh apples filled his nose and a head buried itself in John's neck. Paul was right about the soothing hug but what sent him to sleep with a smile were the words he heard after.

"Love you, Johnny. Please get well soon."


End file.
